Conscription
In June that year, 1939, due to the deteriorating
European crisis, I was called for conscription into the Army.
A state of nerves existed in the country as
preparation for war with Germany continued. I was loaned out to another builder,
to put blackouts up to skylights and windows of the Drill Hall at Halesowen
which belonged to the Worcestershire Regiment. I did further work making
cellars more bomb proof by adding stout timbers to the ceilings under the shops
in the High Street of Lye.
On Sunday, the third of September we waited for an
important announcement to be made on Radio by the Prime Minister, Neville
Chamberlain. The announcement said "We are at war with Germany." The
first militia was called up for a few weeks training then shipped to France to
join the regular army units. The blackouts to every house and factory were put
up with as much speed as possible. Car lights were diffused and ration books
and clothing coupons issued. A few weeks later I received my calling up papers
with the second militia intake. I had to report to Chelmsford barracks on the
twentieth of October. A railway warrant was issued for the journey. The train
from Old Hill to Birmingham was packed with hundreds of young men bound for
duty in the Armed Forces, I knew a few. At Birmingham the station was packed
with men who all seemed to have a similar destination. At Chelmsford we were
taken from the station to the sorting depot, for me it was the barracks. I was
allocated to the infantry battalion attached to the Suffolk Regiment, namely
the First Battalion of the Cambridgeshire Regiment. Others were distributed to
the other East Anglian Regiments. I was taken to
Cambridge with many local lads whom I knew or had made friends with on the
journey. After a meal in the drill hall at Cambridge, we paired off to be taken
around to the house where we were to be billeted. Next day we were fitted out
with army clothes wherever possible. Two lads couldn't get fitted up, one was
six foot five and thin, the other little more than five feet tall and tubby.
They had to drill in plain clothes for a while except for a khaki hat.
We did eight weeks of intensive drilling and marching,
also weapon training with rifle and machine guns. We practised firing in the
drill hall and on the rifle range. At the end of that training we were taken to
join the main body of the battalion at Weeting Hall
in Brandon, Norfolk. The large hall, secluded in the quiet countryside of
Norfolk, was an ideal place for us to live and train. The grounds were lovely,
but it was so isolated from any outside pleasure. There was nowhere to go in
the spare time we had.
The headquarter company of the battalion was stationed
at Weeting Hall, and the four companies A,B,C, and D
which formed the battalion were stationed within a few miles of us. The batch
of men to join the Headquarter company were split up into different sections,
i.e. the platoons of mortars, cooks, signals, transport, gun carriers,
medicals, headquarters and pioneers. The pioneers were made up of different
tradesmen, plus water carriers and sanitary men. I was one of six carpenters,
who altogether made about twenty men. Our job was clear: to assist, make or
repair anything required for the company's needs. Because of this we were
excused many parades, drills, and marches. Even so, we did quite a lot as the
training became intensive, especially when we linked up with the companies for
a manoeuvre. The accommodation and food were good, so was the NAFFI in the
grounds. I was able to write home to say how much I enjoyed the life. Time went
by so quickly, it was Christmas before we knew it. I think we had a week's
leave.
In the New Year I
was selected to go on a carpenters’ course in London. It was on a cold day in
winter, after the details had been sorted out, that I was driven to the local
railway station in an open tourer car. The driver had to race against time
through the country lanes, in order for me to catch the train.
Arriving at London
I had to go by tube train to Highbury. The Northern Polytechnic College where I
had to go was opposite the station. Other soldiers from different Regiments
were there to enrol. We were put into groups and taken to our accommodation for
the course. I was in a room with three others at the Cumberland Hotel in
Highbury Grove. With me were two men from Scotland and one from Birmingham. All
the meals at the hotel were taken with other civilian residents, served by nice
young ladies from Yorkshire. We walked to the College and back each day. The
day usually began with one hour of P.T. in the gymnasium. The instructor was a
very fit man of about sixty who showed us how unfit we really were. Each day,
after P.T., we did woodwork joints from blue-prints, or technical drawing. The
weekend was free time; therefore we could either go home for a weekend or
discover London. There was no-one to give us orders, so we were free as
civilians but we still had to wear a uniform. On one occasion when I went home,
together with the room-mate who came from Birmingham, the trains on the journey
back to London were held up. The Germans had dropped bombs around in raids on
the city. It made us late when we arrived and by that time there was no
transport back to Highbury. We enquired from a policeman what we could do. He
suggested that we have a night at the Police station. There was little
alternative as it was so late, so he led us on to get a night's sleep. It
turned out to be Scotland Yard station where we were shown to a cell and given
blankets. Next morning we were woken to the sound of tinkling tea cups. We woke
up, washed and dressed, then hurried into the dining room to be given
breakfast. Thanking them for their help, we quickly left. We arrived back in
Highbury in time to go to College. Our room-mates wouldn't believe us when we
told them where we had spent the night.
There were about
eight of us soldiers in the hotel. The four of us in my room usually got on
well together. We talked to the residents in the dining room and lounge and
made good friends. One lady, who was alone, kindly asked us if we would like to
supper at her flat which was more in the centre of London. We agreed to go one
evening at the weekend. It seemed unusual for one woman to be asking several
soldiers to her flat, and we wondered what we had let ourselves in for. On
arrival we were led upstairs to her room and invited to take a seat. It was a
bed-sit room. She offered us a drink then brought out the food (lots of
assorted titbits) which we enjoyed as we talked away, with a few jokes here and
there. She couldn't have been nicer. She was good company and a lovely person
who was genuinely trying to be kind to the forces.
The Windmill
Theatre never closed during the war, but we never went anyway. For one thing we
couldn't afford it. We often went to the snooker or billiard halls to pass away
an evening. Sometimes we went to a forces club for a drink and a game of chess.
It was there that I first learnt how to play the game, which I enjoyed. There
wasn't anything in the hotel to pass the time away at night, only talk or
perhaps a card game. On one occasion we started to throw pillows at one
another. The room was an oblong shape with two single beds along the two side
walls. The two Scots were in opposite corners and we two Midlanders were in the
other corners. It started when one Scot threw a pillow in a friendly manner for
the opposite man to catch. Then it developed into a game of catching the pillow
in turns. It hotted up as pillows flew across the room to make catching more
difficult. That didn't last long until the two fiery Scots lost their tempers.
One threw a pillow so hard that in trying to avoid the full force, the other
hit his head on the end of the bed. It split his forehead which began bleeding
badly. Luckily there was a hospital nearby where he had to go to have it
stitched accompanied by his adversary. It was late at night then, but at half
past midnight they still hadn't returned so we went out to look for them. A
hundred yards up the road was a mobile fish and chip shop so we stopped to get
some chips. Before we had finished eating them on the way to the hospital,
along came our roommates, one wounded, but both the best of pals. It was one o'
clock in the morning when we got to bed.
As the course
progressed I was getting very fit with regular daily gymnasium exercises. In
the first few months of the year we played some football in the park at
weekends. Later on, several of us were able to play cricket and form a team to
represent the college. One match I played in was against a team whose ground was
at West Ham. I loved to play cricket, and at that time it was army life at its
best. The carpenter's course at the college was also going well, but the fact
was that it was only for six months. Thankfully I had escaped the winter in a
bleak Norfolk countryside and the army routine. It was summer again but I
didn't know what the future had in store. We had our exams and I was pleased
with my work. The instructors were pleased with the results too. They said we
would all be promoted when we returned to our units.
One thing was for
sure, it was going to be a tougher life from now on. The British Expeditionary
Forces had been forced to be evacuated from Dunkirk beaches, in the greatest
escape and rescue operation ever. We had to go back and prepare for anything.
Back in Brandon at
the end of a travel weary journey from London, I reported to H.Q. Company
Office. This was quite strange, because when I gave details of my absence
to the sergeant-major, it seemed as if they had completely forgotten about me.
The thought entered my mind as to whether I should have bothered to go back. I
knew I was in the army again the next day; back to the strict routine... early
morning reveille, breakfast, on parade and the usual fatigues or jobs around
the billets.
The war had been
going on now for six months or more. We had experienced lots of air raids all
over the country, and in France, our troops were under severe pressure and were
fast losing territory, resulting in the evacuation from Dunkirk. The threat of
invasion by the Germans now put us more on the alert. Therefore the whole
battalion was split up and moved to various places in Norfolk. Our company
moved to Wymondham for a short time, then North Walsham and quite soon to the
coast at Happisburgh. Here we prepared for possible
invasion plans. A lot of hard work making pill boxes took place.
One such occasion I
remember so well: After constructing a pill-box or look-out, which the sergeant
had detailed us to build against the side of a brick farm building, I was detailed
to camouflage it. The usual camouflage in the army was to conceal guns or gun
emplacements with imitation foliage. The idea of making this look-out post
resemble a tree didn’t seem correct to me, being a brick wall and an oblong
shape. Therefore I painted it to blend in with the wall. When I finished I
stepped back a few paces to admire my handiwork. Just then the sergeant came
back to see the results of my artwork.
The sergeant was a
tall, well-built man, very strong, a stonemason by trade. He had a round red
face, but instead of being feared he was a bit of a softie. The other N.C.O.s would often pull his leg and were highly amused
when he talked, as he occasionally used a big word but a wrong one.
His cheerful face
changed as he turned away from me to look at the camouflaged post. At the sight
of the extension to the building, instead of a ‘tree’, he cheeks puffed out
getting redder. He exploded, “What do you think this is?” He immediately picked
up the paint and brush and splashed green and brown patches of paint all over,
in true army style. “That’s what I wanted,” he said, and walked away in anger.
To me it looked more obviously like what it was: a disguised look-out post!
Every two or three
nights a week we took guard, two hours on, four hours off. I was on guard one
night, busily looking out across the sea for lights or any movement, listening
and looking all around the post. It was a cold, quiet, dark night. Suddenly the
approaching footsteps got too close for comfort. I challenged the intruder,
shouting "Halt and give the password!"
The answer came
back with a swear word. "That's ..........it, it's Captain Coulson. What
is the password?"
I then called,
"Advance Captain Coulson". With a few exchanges of words he left,
with me thinking what he might have said, had I not been so alert!
One night we had an
air raid, with a few stray planes dropping their bombs before flying out to
sea. Our platoon took bicycles and went out to investigate. We found that a row
of bombs had fallen close to the church with one scoring a direct hit on our
cookhouse. There were a few injuries to personnel and the quartermaster's store
was caught. We had more and better food for a while because the quartermaster
received more rations to replace damaged stocks. This was about all the
excitement we had at this very quiet, lonely village. It was winter so there
was little to do at night when there was no guard duty. Whenever possible I
entertained the lads in our billet with my mouth organ or harmonica.
Soon we were on the
move again, this time to Scotland. It was a very severe winter when we moved
and after much speculation as to where we would be going, there was a lot of
hard work to be done packing for the move. At the end of a long tiring journey,
we found ourselves coming to a halt at a large tweed mill in Galashiels. The
army had taken the mill over for the duration of the war.
After settling in,
the strict training intensified, with many route marches and manoeuvres at
night and in the daytime with the rest of the brigade. One scheme lasted three
days and nights. In this we covered over eighty miles against imaginary
opposition. The weather was very cold, especially at night, as we had to try to
get a few hours sleep wherever we happened to be out in the country. On the
third day out, two other lads and I chased a rabbit, caught and killed it. We
put it on the platoon truck and took it back to barracks. One of the cooks at
the cookhouse did us a favour and made a rabbit pie for us. Just before evening
meal we collected the pie, and then the evening meal. Feeling quite hungry
after being out in the open air for three days, one lad and I ate the lot
between us. The other lad didn't fancy the challenge, but we enjoyed ours,
which gave us a very full stomach, but no after effects.
During the time we
were at Galashiels a Garrison Theatre was organised for anyone wanting
to contribute to the show. I was asked by the sergeant to play my harmonica.
The show was at the local theatre which housed about a thousand. Without much
preparation I selected a few nice tunes and gave the pianist the titles of the
selection. With no rehearsal he followed me beautifully, which ended with good
applause. The whole show was a complete success, and the local population took
us into their hearts. We were invited back to their homes where they made us
welcome.
All rather too
quickly came the news that we would be going abroad. We were given embarkation
leave quite hurriedly. The journey home was bad enough but worse was to come.
While we were on
leave, heavy falls of snow with cold winds caused drifting and freezing
conditions. It made the journey back to Galashiels very difficult. Starting
back in good time, so we thought, we made progress to Birmingham without much
trouble. There we found lots of soldiers stranded on the platforms. The trains
to Scotland were six hours late. Many of our lads were waiting. In the early
hours of the morning we reported to the Railway Transport Officer (R.T.O.) to
get our passes signed as proof of being unable to proceed on the journey.
When the train
finally did come, it was with slow progress, and great difficulty on the long
travel north, through drifts of snow, in the early hours of the morning.
By the time we arrived back in barracks to check
in at the guard-room, we were sixteen hours late. We were immediately put on a
charge, to appear before the Commanding Officer. One by one the charges were
read out. Then I was asked, "What do you have to say?"
I told my story and
showed my pass signed by the R.T.O. Neither the weather conditions nor the
signed pass made any difference, this was the army. We all got seven days C.B.,
in other words: confined to barracks with extra fatigues.
Next day I had a
temperature, so I reported sick. The medical officer sent me immediately to the
local hospital. I was kept in for a week with 'flu and nursed by civilian
nurses which was great. By remaining there for a week I avoided doing my C.B.,
which was a relief.
Our move overseas
failed to materialise, but instead we moved to the Midlands, close to home at
Nuneaton. This gave us a better chance of getting back home.
During the late
summer of 1940 we were sleeping six to a tent in the grounds of Arbury Park.
While I was on leave for the weekend, the terrific air-raid on Coventry took
place, which is close to Arbury. Lots of shrapnel fell in the grounds and quite
close to the tents. Fortunately not many were injured. Being on leave, we
didn't know exactly where the raid had been, but we heard it and knew that it
was a very heavy raid over several hours.
Also during the
summer the Battalion put on a spectacular tattoo display, in which I took part.
The training for the event was very hard, but very rewarding. Ours was a
drilling display without a word of command. Free admission was given to many
hundreds of the local people, who enjoyed a spectacular event to brighten up
the weary, hard-working days of the war. We were welcomed everywhere around
Arbury and Nuneaton after that.
It was while I was
at Arbury that I started smoking. At the time we were rationed with cigarettes
and chocolate. I swapped my ration of cig's for a chocolate ration, with each
one in turn in my tent. Before long, one disgruntled customer thought I had
missed his share of cigarette ration out, and believed a closer friend had been
favoured. My next ration of cigarettes was issued just before my appointment to
the dentist. On that day while I waited in the dentist's, I felt the cigarettes
in my pocket and decided to smoke them myself. This, I thought, would end the
unpleasant accusations. I continued to smoke my ration after that, but I missed
my extra chocolate. It was not until 1946 that I gave up the smoking habit.
Just when we were
settling in nicely at Arbury we heard that we were to move. "But where to
now?" we asked ourselves. Luckily it was still in the Midlands: to
Cannock. More packing and unpacking for us to do!
The company was
billeted in Cannock town which was good for us when we wanted to go out. The
other companies of the Battalion were in surrounding places, one being at
Rugeley. They did a lot of training on Cannock Chase.
At weekends, unless
we were on duty, the lads living in the Birmingham area went on unofficial
leave. Sometimes on Sundays a church parade was called. One weekend I went home
when a parade was unexpectedly called. On roll call I was one of the absentees.
I was on a charge. With no excuses I was on seven days C.B. Fortunately
for me again, I was sent to Rugeley to another company the next day, for a week
or more. For a second time I escaped doing my C.B. This made me wiser
before the event in future.
My work at Rugeley
involved making grease traps, and fly-proof preparation surrounds for the
cookhouse. I enjoyed that work very much, because no-one bothered me and it was
good training for what was to come. When I had met their requirements I was
taken back to Cannock.
I remember buying a
French top pocket watch at Cannock. It was a nice watch with a decorative face
which I liked. The watch worked well, but it lost time, so I took it back to
the shop. Before I was able to get my watch back we were on the move again.
Many years later when I returned after the war, I went back to Cannock. I still
remembered the watch, but I daresay the shopkeeper had forgotten.
Rumours of a move
prior to going overseas persisted, and everybody seemed to be eager to get into
the action instead of moving around to new training grounds.
The next move was
to Lichfield Barracks. We trained there for embarkation, checking stores and equipment,
packing and unpacking, to see how quickly we could do it. We knew there would
be no false alarm this time when we were issued with tropical kit. Furthermore,
we knew our destination would probably be the Middle East, not Europe. During
embarkation leave Mary and I agreed to get engaged. There were emotional
farewells as I left loved ones for the unknown future.